Purple static erupted around Netta once again as was teleported to a barren landscape.
This was where the four actors were stranded, and were quickly becoming overrun with zombies. Netta stepped out of the teleporter as she recalled the S.O.S. message that had been sent to Group 935 hours before her departure.
Help us...please...we are quickly becoming overrun...supplies low...battery low...our director is one of them now...he tried to kill us...come quickly.
Netta wished that Edward were here with her. As much as she didn't want to admit it, even to herself, she was a little scared. What if she failed? What if she couldn't reach the actors in time?
She gritted her teeth, not allowing herself to think like that. She was well-trained in this area of combat.
It was very cold outside. A small lake laid to the left of Netta, and snow was gently falling towards the frozen ground. Broken fences and barriers stood to her left, and zombie corpses littered the area.
It was eerily quiet. Grimacing, Netta pulled a black scarf and leather gloves out of her bag and quickly put them on. Despite the cold and where she was, Netta gave a small smile.
Look at me. A little dark angel going to war against the undead...That would make a great book...I'll have to write something like that one day.
As a young girl, Netta loved to write. Pages and pages of romances and fantasy tales filled her school folders, all coming from her untamed imagination. She preferred the company of a pen and paper rather than that of the girls and boys at school, who would often make fun of her for being so odd and dreamy. Netta remembered getting slapped by her teacher with a ruler for writing stories in arithmetic class. She chuckled at the memory.
She looked around, noticing the abandoned ship laying in the distance like a broken toy. It was a sad, yet unsettling sight.
Clutching her ray gun tightly, Netta saw two ways that she could go. She could walk towards the ship or down the tunnel way. She figured there were more places for her to get cornered if she walked up towards the ship, so she started with the tunnel way.
As if either way would be safer...
She cautiously walked through the short tunnel way, but met no zombies. A clearing led to the entrance to a lighthouse, or a short flight of steps down to some cavern beneath her. Running up the steps to the lighthouse, she heaved open the doors. That's when she heard it...the screams and moans of what sounded like a hundred zombies coming from somewhere above the lighthouse.
She cursed under her breath, panic creeping up her body. Netta grabbed the ray gun out of her pocket and sprinted up the lighthouse. Shoving open a door, Netta came to another clearing, high above where she had teleported.
Dozens and dozens of zombies were screaming and shrieking, all of them running after four people who stood out amongst the swarm, shouting and shooting at the running corpses. The horrific sight left Netta standing paralyzed for a moment as she watched what she would later describe as Hell.
Snapping back into reality, Netta quickly pocketed her ray gun and pulled the massive ThunderGun off the strap on her back, knowing this would be her only option. Trying to aim carefully through her building panic, Netta began blasting her way through the swarm, trying not to hit the four actors in the process. Hordes of corpses flew through the air, her ThunderGun doing its job.
She ran out onto the field, dropping the massive gun and pulling out her ray gun. Breathing heavily, she shot down the remaining zombies.
It didn't take very long.
Netta was breathing heavily, her chest tightening up. She never had severe asthma, but it had always been there her whole life. But now, in the frigid temperature, she wish she had her bag with her inhaler.
Stupid! Why did you leave your medical bag back at the teleporter? Idiot!
Netta gritted her teeth, cursing herself for not thinking. She took a deep breath and looked around.
The field was deathly still, not a sound from a zombie or a human.
Oh God, please no...They must still be alive...
From behind her, Netta heard a loud rasping gasp. She whirled around, and saw a man laying on the ground about six feet from her, twitching and gasping for breath. Netta immediately recognized him as Robert Englund.
Crying out in alarm, Netta ran over to where he was laying and knelt beside him. He was bleeding from his neck and arm, his eyes squeezed shut.
"Robert! Robert, can you hear me? It's Netta! ...Robert, answer me, please..." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
A groan escaped him, but he didn't open his eyes. His face was screwed up in a grimace, and he continued to shake. Netta had to get him back to the teleporter immediately, or he was certain to die where he laid.
Taking a deep breath, Netta half-lifted-half-dragged him across the field and towards the lighthouse. He was heavy, but Netta managed to pull him across the field and into the lighthouse. Getting him down the winding staircase would be the hard part.
It took almost an hour, but Netta was finally able to heave the badly injured actor into the teleporter. She was breathing heavily and her limbs ached. But Robert was still alive.
Swallowing hard through heavy gasps, Netta managed to punch in the coordinates to the old space station. Purple static erupted around the two, and then they were gone, leaving the ship behind them and whatever horrors it held.